


this little flame of mine

by writedeku



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Heart-to-Heart, Keith-Centric, M/M, mild season 3 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writedeku/pseuds/writedeku
Summary: It actually takes a while for it to sink in. Shiro is gone. He’s not dead, he’s gone. Somehow, it’s worse, the feeling of constantly searching and searching and never quite finding anything that’s the killer, dragging Keith down, burdening him with the constant knowledge that once again, he’s lost him. He's afailure.





	this little flame of mine

**Author's Note:**

> this is a short quick dump of my emotions of keith after voltron season 3 shot me through the heart

It actually takes a while for it to sink in. Shiro is gone. He’s not dead, he’s _gone._ Somehow, it’s worse, the feeling of constantly _searching_ and _searching_ and never quite finding anything that’s the killer, dragging Keith down, burdening him with the constant knowledge that once again, he’s lost him. 

He must really suck at being a _protector_ a _friend_ when all he could do was watch Shiro slip through his fingers and drift away, never quite landing something solid. 

He knows the team isn’t taking it well either. He can see the dark circles under Pidge’s eyes from where she stares at computer screens. He knows she’s thinking _Matt Shiro Matt Shiro Matt NOT AGAIN._ The kitchen is filled with badly burnt baked goods, for even Hunk cannot concentrate on the thing he loved the most. Allura looks burdened with the knowledge that she was the one who sent Shiro out, Coran sometimes turns to empty air and just has this, this _defeated_ look and Lance, well, he’s not too sure about Lance. He’s the same as ever. He makes bad jokes and poor puns and sits on Hunk’s lap to braid Pidge’s hair. He cleans up after a bakefest and has taken to standing where Shiro does behind the console so that when Coran turns to look he doesn't see an empty space. Before missions he says, “Allura don’t forget, we _choose_ to go out there, you’re not sending anyone who doesn’t want to be here.” He places a hand on Keith’s shoulder when the sadness gets overwhelming, and while that isn’t much- it’s somehow become the _one anchor_ he can depend on. 

Sometimes, though, he can’t see through his rage, and he turns on them. Why are they still here after all the things Keith has said about them?

When it sinks in, it’s after he wakes up from a nightmare. In it, he was floating through space, drifting aimlessly on the wisps of a nebula, holding tightly onto purple blue gas that wafted about him. There’s no one out here. He just drifted and floated in the soundless space, turning head over heel, kicking uselessly. This went on for a long, long time. And when he's found it’s not Voltron it’s not La- the face of Zarkon loomed before him, alien and _wrong. “_ I’ve got Shiro,” he said. “Now I’m coming for the rest.”

He had woken shivering and panting, tangled up in his blanket, the feeling of hands on his neck too real, so he tripped out of his bed and stood up, deciding he’d go for a walk. 

It’s when he's sitting on the bridge, staring at the vast expanse of space that stretches out and unfolds before his eyes, that he realises how alone they are. Sometimes, it doesn't quite resonate with him, the fact that he’s basically _lost_ in this world where galaxies and cosmos mattered none; no matter how big a planet you found you could always find something bigger. 

Shiro is out there, somewhere, in the vastness of this space, and it burdens him to know that he may never find him. 

He can feel his throat close up. How could he protect the team like this? How could he _lead?_ He was not wise nor kind nor compassionate. He didn’t look at people and see their potential, neither did he look at people and see the best parts of themselves. He looked at people and saw things that could be used. 

He puts his hands up to his face. 

That’s when the hand lands on his shoulder. Its weight is familiar, its heat burns through the thin shirt he is wearing to sleep and sears an imprint of it onto his skin. 

He turns to look at him. 

“Hey man,” Lance says, dropping to sit beside him on the stairs. Their legs press against each other, and he stares in awe at him, and this man who just with the touch of a hand can chase away any demon. Keith shudders at this feeling inside of him, brewing and growing like a sort of tumour. “I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“I had a nightmare,” replies Keith, finding it hard to drag his gaze away from the solemness of Lance’s blue eyes or the slant of his jaw. He’s so very _human,_ isn’t he? 

“What a coincidence. So did I,” Lance cracks a small smile, and Keith mentally kicks himself. _Stupid._ Just because Lance is as Lance-y as ever doesn't mean he is doing alright. He finds himself admiring the act that this man can put on for the sake of others. Lance is insufferable, that is true. But the months they have spent together has somehow drawn them little closer by little closer, as though someone is pulling at a thread between them. 

Keith wants to comfort him the way Shiro would, but he is not Shiro. He could never be Shiro. He settles instead for pressing his shoulder harder into Lance’s, letting Lance’s body bend beneath his and accepting him such that they’re now curved, shoulder against chest. 

“It’s just us now,” Keith scuffs his feet on the floor. “So, you…don’t have to keep pretending.”

Lance smiles, a sad, soft one that kind of shatters Keith’s heart even more. “It’s hard on all of us, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”

“You don’t have to be so _angry_ all the time, you know,” he manages to laugh a little as he turns his body, slotting his legs in between Keith’s and causing him to fall harder onto his chest. Lance tucks his chin on top of Keith’s head and somehow this went from Keith comforting Lance to having the tables rudely turned against him. “I understand what happened during today’s banquet was an outlier, but man, Shiro or no Shiro, it’s our duty to help these people.”

“And when did our duty involve lying to them?” Keith tries his best to turn on Lance, but he can’t, not this time. His voice just sounds defeated. 

“It’s not lying so much so as omitting a little of the truth,” Lance makes a face and sighs. “You know I don’t like it either, buddy, but we’ve got to believe Shiro will come back. Until then, it’s like Allura said. We’ve got to find another pilot for the black lion.”

Keith’s eyes fall down to the floor. He clutches onto Lance’s jacket and breathes in- he smells of the space perfume he bought a couple of days back, it's warm and rich and smells faintly of ozone, like the smell just before a storm. “Shiro's really gone, isn't he?”

“Not for long,” Lance says. He can feel the vibrations from his voice where his hands are, and in spite of himself he smiles. “He’s Takashi Shirogane. He’s like, a living _legend._ I’m almost ninety percent sure he’ll find us while we’re turning rocks over looking for him.”

Keith laughs a little. “What, he’s just going to turn up in front of the ship one day and lecture us for falling apart while he’s gone?”

“I can already picture him nagging,” he replies a little dreamily. “We should probably keep the ship spick span then. Who _knows_ when we’ll find him in the dock. Remember when we caught him sweeping the area in front of the greenhouse?”

“Oh my god, he couldn’t stand the muddy footprints Coran was leaving behind,” Keith laugh is louder now. “He even went out and bought a _floor mat.”_

“Right? He’s worse than my mom,” Lance holds him a little tighter and both of them turn to look outside again. “Space seems very big, but I have a pillow I like to hug and Hunk's socks to wash tomorrow morning. It’s not that big at all if you just live.”

Keith smiles. It’s a gentle one meant only for Lance, but he knows he can’t see it. He’s content instead with the fact that he did it. Maybe one day, they’ll figure what they had out. 

It’s more like Keith knows he could love Lance if he tried hard enough, if he sorted through the years of solitude and the shaking paranoia of losing people he cared about. If he tried, maybe one day he could reach out a hand to touch the side of his face and press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, where he would feel Lance’s pulse beneath it, steady and strong. 

He pulls away from Lance’s hold and stands up on shaky legs. He presses a hand to the glass of the windows. 

The world is very, very big, and he is very, very small, but standing here, with Lance watching him with what he now knows is fondness, he feels like he can manage it after all. 

“We’ll find Shiro. You and me,” Keith turns to him with a determined voice and bright, bright eyes. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”

Lance gives him a smile, a rare, genuine one. “I’ll always be here.”

In the darkened twilight of the bridge at night, what they’ve just built is not a lot to go on. But as Keith cups this little flame in his chest, he thinks, well, maybe it could burn just a little brighter. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you listen closely, the sound at the end is cupid's arrow going through keith's tiny little grinch heart   
> read my other klance fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=276512&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&user_id=stormfirej)!   
> thanks for reading, please comment or kudos if you enjoyed it!


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